


Red

by Blair_Hxward



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Betrayal, Distrust, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mindbreak, Multi, Nuclear Warfare, Original Character(s), Paranoia, Past Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, Spy - Freeform, Violence, not historically accurate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2020-09-29 16:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20439143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blair_Hxward/pseuds/Blair_Hxward
Summary: 1960's. A time of trial and error. Of teeth against throats and a pistol pressed against the soft flesh upon a belly; taunting the owner to pull the trigger. Where the world seems to hold its breath as the superpowers toyed with each other, fearing that any noise with startle them into sending them all into Nuclear Holocaust. The air taut with tension.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This has the format of a roleplay, so many things characters do is in response to what the other did- and vice versa. I have modified it somewhat, but in places later it will be difficult to follow along without this knowledge. I will indicate when I used heavy modifications in terms of structure when the time comes.  
Structure is odd because there is no proper chapters because of it's origin.  
-B

1960’s. A time of trial and error. Of teeth against throats and a pistol pressed against the soft flesh of a belly; taunting the owner to pull the trigger. Where the world seems to hold its breath as the superpowers toyed with each other, fearing that any noise will startle them into sending them all into Nuclear Holocaust. The air taut with tension. Despite this, despite how trepidation and ire sits, trembling in the out of his stomach, Alfred could do nothing more than plaster a grin as he made his way to the White House; hitching the strap of the messenger bag higher upon his shoulder as it smacked against his thigh with each step he took. Flashing his ID briefly to the security guard (He knew Thompson he who he was already, but it was better safe than sorry) and murmuring a good morning, he slipped past the gates and crammed the last bite of his croissant into his mouth; chewing on it vigorously as he made his way up the walkway. 

He knew the President must be annoyed at his late timing, but he would rather face his exasperated sighs and eye rolls than arrive on an empty stomach… especially with everything that is going on. Rushing into the entrance, he felt the strap of his bag slip down his shoulder and he turned momentarily to gaze down at it; struggling to hoist it back up to its proper place without breaking his stride. And unfortunately, didn’t realize that a female stepped right in front of him as he rounded the corner; preoccupied in the folders bestowed in her grip. Slamming into her at full speed, a yelp tumble from him as they both fell onto the ground in a flurry of papers; wincing as he slammed onto his knees sharply. “Shit! Sorry ma’am, I didn’t see where I was going!” he babbled as he frantically began to gather the papers scattered about the carpet, his pale cheeks turning a warm hue of rose. “Are you okay? Here, I think these are yours.”

The young lady whom Alfred has crashed into was quickly reaching for the bright white sheets of paper that lay scattered upon the dark coloured floor. Her glistening lilac eyes slowly looked to him, a complimenting rose blush happened upon her pale skin. “I am very sorry, sir. I assure you this will not happen again.” She said, her voice soft and pleasing to the ear, as she crawled onto her knees and reached an arm forward, taking the remained of her papers out of his hands. The papers were unfortunately out of order, something that must have taken hours for her to successfully organize, which she would have to redo all over again: correspondence and interception of Russian signals to the neighboring countries under influence of the Union, as well as other less important tasks.

Alfred’s knapsack clasp had popped open due to the collision, causing him to huff in slight bother as he pushed the papers back into the pockets; the gush of air causing the golden spuns of hair to dance lazily in the air. Causing him to look more rumpled than before, knowing fully well that his boss would take notice to it and give him a chastisement. He found this often amusing, giving how the boyishly handsome nation had been alive longer than him, but he dared not push on the subject. A breathless chuckle escaped him as she seemed to apologize for his mistake, speaking through his laughter, “No! No, it’s fine Dollface, it was all on me, I should’ve just… paid more attention…” He managed to gather the rest of the files and pushed them back together in a disarrayed pile; handing it back to her with a sheepish grin, “Er… here’s your things Miss…” He paused in his question of her surname, cocking his head slightly as he scrutinized her; swallowing thickly. 

Women were nothing new to him, his long years on the earth never letting him have the opportunity to. Hell, he even dined with Marilyn Monroe herself, the bombshell that made all the men he knew salivate after her like panting mongrels. Yet this one… this one before him… it felt as it something in his chest was tugged at sharply; causing a shiver to resound in the marrow of his bones. Perhaps it was her eyes… staring up at him with those brilliant shades of amethyst… sparkling behind glasses that sat prettily upon her elfish nose. How her skin was flawless ivory with high hues of rosy coloring the swell of her cheeks; reminding him vividly of the Victorian dolls he saw when he was a mere child. Perhaps it was something else. Smiling gently, he wrapped his fingers upon the crook of her elbow as he helped her onto her feet, her flesh warming against his through the thin fabric. Despite her being perfectly set on her feet again, he kept his fingers upon her person as he studied her; his sapphire-hued gaze fixating upon her countenance. “I don’t mean to be rude… but how come I have never seen you before?” he questioned, his brows furrowing above his gaze, “are you an assistant here? Funny enough, I haven’t heard of them hiring anyone right now since the Senators are too busy right now…” his voice promised curiosity, innocent questioning… yet held a sharpness to it. It was the middle of a war, and paranoia pulsed in his throat like the beats of a war drum.

Anna’s glittering amethyst eyes scurried away from his hard sapphire gaze. “Miss Winters, sir.” She replied softly, her voice as light as the air surrounding them. “And I have been working here with correspondence for over three years, sir.” Her reply was perfect and confident, no room to question or pull at. Her soft hand took his larger one, and lifted it off of her person. She was indeed warm, but the way she held herself was with confidence, nevertheless of if she was a woman. She knew trust and respect were to be earned here, much like in her own country, and was one of only a few women who worked in the dignified state house. Her heart was not moved by the young country, nor did it give her much of a feeling besides prey. Perhaps she could get along well with him, and if this was successful, she would be the first to get new information. The unrest within him was prominent to her, yet nothing could be read the other way besides innocence, determination and pride. “I work in the communications office, as well as transporting information from there to other men here.”

The scrutinizing expression in Alfred’s hardened irises seemed to flicker, as if it was a lighter coughing feebly in the winds, before dying; returning back to the soft curious look the young man often wore. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so nosy Miss White.” he grinned, pulling his hand back to his side as she removed it from her person; running his fingers through the wild mane he called his hair, “I mean, hopefully you understand since… well… with everything that is going on with those dirty Commies.”

He spoke the word ‘Commies” as if it was a curse, sneering the word bitterly between his bare teeth; as if he wished to bite down on the word itself and cause it to perish. He wished it was that easy. That easy to get rid of _ them._

“You’ve been here for three years?” he repeated, pursing his lips slightly, “I guess I’ve never seen you here then, I’ve been really busy with… everything that has happened since the Second Great War…” his eyes slide to the wall behind her as a vacant gaze took hold of them, something seeming to pulse in them like a second heartbeat. The beginning of a slippage.

_ “Stop it. That road will lead to madness.” _


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has the format of a roleplay, so many things characters do is in response to what the other did- and vice versa. I have modified it somewhat, but in places later it will be difficult to follow along without this knowledge. I will indicate when I used heavy modifications in terms of structure when the time comes.  
Structure is odd because there is no proper chapters because of it's origin.  
-B
> 
> -Double Spaced is shifted POV, as it shifts between Anna and Alfred frequently. This is because of what I stated above, it belonged in email role play format-

Struggling to pull himself out of the dark places slipping into the corners of his membranes, as he ran his tongue along the edges of his lips as he turned to gaze at the female before him again. Her features seemed to bloom steadily in his gaze now, more vivid due to how he concentrated on her to keep himself from slipping again. She was tiny compared to him (his height teetering close to 6’ft now), the top of her head only reaching his mid-torso. Her hair was an ashen blonde, more pale than the fresh snow he’d seen fall in his lifetime; paler than her own skin. Even her eyes seemed to be leaking of color, a high hue of lavender that were startlingly bright against thick frames of lashes; burning behind wire framed glasses. Her cherubic-like countenance bloomed with a low dust of pink; decorating the swell of her cheeks admirably. Her lips were a faint scarlet hue, daintily shining against her flesh and seemed almost doll-like with how lush they were.

Before, at first glance, he thought of her similar to a Victorian doll; which was not true. Her soft features seem more worthy of a ballerina; gracefully spinning upon her toes as the curtains closed around her; hushing the audience with Celtic hold in them. Lost in the transmission of power.

Clearing his throat, he gave her a boisterous grin as he questioned, “How about I make up for it by taking you to lunch during your break? I know this great cafe just near here, called Breadline. Best melted sandwiches you can ask for!” realizing the applications held in his words, he went on with a stammer, “N-not that I’m asking you out, I mean, you’re a very beautiful girl but i just though-”

“Alfred!” A voice boomed from down the hall, amplified by the narrow passway and causing the American to stumble to a halt; casting a glance over his shoulder.  
Arthur Kirkland, dignified in a suit spun from hues of mahogany, stood at the end of it with his fingers pointing vigorously at his wristwatch; his foot tapping an impatient beat against the polished floorboards. “Not that it seems to matter to you, but you boss and mine are already at the meeting room waiting for your arse so we can proceed with the documents we unearth on the Rosenbergs and the threat that it implies,” the older man snapped, his thick brows furrowed together in a disapproving arch, “so I would very much like it if you stop babbling and get on with it!”

The way he spoke the word ‘Commies’ disgusted her, just as it would be to her replying something much more vulgar in return. She simply smiled back to him, her lips glittering like gloss like her eyes as she examined the beautiful man in front of her. His eyes like deep oceans just destined to be discovered, to be sought by a perfect woman such as herself. Her amethyst eyes traced along his fresh features, much like a carving out of a marble statue, made many centuries ago. “Miss Winters.” she softly corrected. “And I would be humbled to be in your presence, sir. I would enjoy going with you on my lunch break, if I have the time.” The woman bowed her head, a loose chunk of hair falling beside her face, delicately touching her warm person.

Many things ran through her mind, analyzing what she could tell about him by his movements, by his voice, by those ocean deep eyes. _ Perfect. _

“You should get to your meeting, sir. I would hate for you to get into trouble because of me.” She took out his hand, writing down her line at the White House on his hand. “Just give me a ring when you are ready.” Anna murmured, adjusting the papers in her arms. Slowly, she turned away from him, her delicate fingers dragging down the air in a weak wave, proceeding down the long hallway, where her own boss met her with more paperwork and ushered her off down the stairs. Her soft steps barely made a sound on the thin carpeting.

Alfred stiffened noticeably when he felt her thin fingers run against his flesh as she gave him her line, perhaps due to the face he has never been touched without permission before. He was a strapping young lad with a bodice thick with muscles and a beauty that screamed All-American, so it came to no surprise that he had his fair share of dates with a handful of broads; so he was no stranger to a woman's touch.

Perhaps it was his hidden paranoia, rooted deep within him like rotten vines; creeping into the marrow of his bones and taking hold. He knew he needed to be more vigilant now, with everything McCarthy have been unearthing, but what was the harm in one lunch date? Surely this girl was no trouble, if she worked in the White House. Technology has come a long way, with more background checks to their privy, so if she worked here, she must be in the all clear.

A cup of coffee won’t bring his country to a downfall.

Once she gave him limb back to him and bid him a farewell, he turned to the fuming Englishman at the neck of the corridor and made his way towards him in hurried steps; cocking a brow at how he fumed.

“Honestly, can’t I trust you in not being late every time we hold one of these conferences?” Arthur groaned as he fell into a pace next to him, heading their way to the oval office, “Especially now, with the U.S.S.R influences seeming to take routes in Asia, you decide it’s better to go on a banter with some random girl!”

“For your information, I just stopped to chat with her because I knocked her down in my hurry to meet you guys!” Alfred shot back, his voice tinged with exasperation as he muttered lowly under his breath, “besides, it’s not as if I’m much importance now, given how Truman seems to ignore my every advice…”

Arthur gave him a smart tap in the back of his skull as he reprimanded, “You are the country, and whatever the president recommends, you will have to listen with an opened mind. Sometimes you don’t particularly agree, but you have to grin and bare it for the sake of your people. Besides, you don’t want to start anymore tension here, especially with the threats coming from the slavic countries across the pond…’

“Right…” the young man sighed, knowing it’s best to heed his words as they stepped through the office doors; the heavy oak creaking sporadically behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Ao3 won't let me post Co-Creator of someone outside Ao3, credit also goes to my partner Modest Goddess.   
-B


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has the format of a roleplay, so many things characters do is in response to what the other did- and vice versa. I have modified it somewhat, but in places later it will be difficult to follow along without this knowledge. I will indicate when I used heavy modifications in terms of structure when the time comes.  
Structure is odd because there is no proper chapters because of it's origin.  
-B

“It’s great you manage to resurface again, since the phone been ringing for ya,” Winter’s boss, a stout man whose belly bounced over his belt with each step while his bald spot gleamed under the artificial lights, “Your brother been meaning to speak to you about a family affair.”

As they entered back to the office (which smelled faintly of casserole; his reheated lunch) he pointed a thick finger towards where the telephone perched; a snorting sound rumbling deep in his chest as he heaved himself into a chair. “I don’t know why you were talking to that boy Alfred,” he grunted as he leaned back into his chair, eyeing her with beady eyes, “Sure he’s a nation and everything, but that kid ain’t got much maturity to fill a egg dish. What you need is a man, Anna, to show you the ropes around here…”

His gaze flickered across her frame as he spoke, a hungry spark visible in them. He’s been fixated by the blonde bombshell ever since she was assigned to him, his stare always coming back to whenever they were in the same room. He even had moments where he ‘accidentally’ brushed up against her, his fingers skimming along the curve of her arse or breasts; a secretive little smirk on his lips whenever he managed to do it. The only thing keeping him at bay was the fact she was a bit too young… although her beauty was making him have second thoughts.

Ivan Braginsky, the personification of Russia himself, sat in his seat with the telephone pressed between his ear and shoulder blade; waiting patiently on the line for Anna to pick up the phone. The line connecting his phone to hers ran through several others in Serbia, to Eastern Germany, so it became a jumbled mess that even the CIA would take hours unraveling. Just as he wanted, for he wished to collect updates on the progress she made in the United States.

Even then, he still needed to take precautions posing as several of her family members who needed her dire attention. One could never be too careful when it comes to that idiot little bald bow. He was arrogant, and despicable… but he was clever. Ivan would give him that.

The overgrown man pulled the cigarette from his lips as he heard her pick up, wisps of smoke curling from his nostrils as he murmured, “Hallo sister, I am so glad to catch up with you again… has anything new been going on where you are? Any luck at the racing track?”

** Translation: Do you have any updates on the Rosenbergs and the files they sent? Anything you unearth that can be useful to our cause?**

“Hello brother.” Anna said softly as she placed the paperwork onto the table beside the phone. “Not much has been happening recently, to be honest. Just work and more work because of the Scare.” she sighed. “The racing track has been quite predictable, though. I’ve made a fair share of wins to it, but that is a discussion for another time.” the smell of another man lighting up a cigarette caught her attention just briefly, and she paid careful attention behind her from her picture frame.

She hated the touches of her boss, the subtle touches that invaded her body like roaches infesting a house. That’s all he was. A roach, disgusting and infestive, trying to infest her body with his thick fingers and disgusting breath. Though it wasn’t enough to report to another leader, it didn’t stop her from wanting to bend his hand so far back it snapped, before planting six shells into his face. Though, she had been violated before, by many men. Some from the Mafia, farmers, parliamentary workers, and so on, his touches made her vomit inside. The old smell of the body odor that came from the oversized folds on his grotesque body.

“How is Mama doing?” she questioned, “Is she doing alright? What news do you have of her?” her voice sounded quite concerned, most of her concentration on the phone call, as he nimble fingers starting picking out the organized numbers from the messy pile of papers. “You can spare me the gruesome details until I am home. I am still at work, but please tell me the basic run. My wins have mostly been the fastest, though I did study their typical win ratios. Thus far, I’ve only voted on the slowest a few times, nothing major.” She said. “The biggest will be the best. Oh, and there’s many other interesting races I’d like to see around the country. Some are quite interesting, but I am not sure.”

** Translation: So far, nothing has surfaced based on them. However I do have someone who can help me. Someone high in power. Don’t worry, I will have more useful things when I look over their file more. There are more like them across country. I don’t know names. **

She crossed her legs one over the other, sighing, scooting closer to into the desk.

Ivan bowed his chin in a slow nod at her words as he leaned forward, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the still air. His winter-white hair became ruffled by this, static causing several of them to scream violently upwards; causing him to smooth them down lazily with the palm of his callous hold. “That’s good to hear Anna… although one could never be careful with betting on a horse,” he hummed, the sound of him ruffling several files audible in the dingy phone line, “Those things… they are wild. Unpredictable. You believe they would reach the finishing line, but then get bested by another. Many gamble for these chances, and many lost. So take precaution, yes?”

** That is good, although take heed. Those Americans? They seem ditzy and gluttonous upon the surface, but look what they do to others. I cannot afford you being compromised, you are my best agent so far. Be cautious. **

Despite their line being faint and warbled, Ivan had difficulty keeping his accent to a minimum. It was easy for Anna, having her placed in the Red Room Program since she was a toddler where she’s been molded into becoming the Soviet Union’s top assassin. One of many lessons there, being bred to lose their slavic accents, making it easier for them to infiltrate in multiple countries. He himself never had to do any of that dirty work, and tended to more affairs in his own nation, therefore never had the proper chance to work on it.

Every word he said came out slow, each syllable worked upon before being spoken; his voice a steady stream in his own ears. He had no strain to it, for he had no worries at the moment. He knew Anna, having her by his side since the day she was created. He knew that she would never slip up, that she is more ambitious than all the others combined. This added to his affection over her. “I do miss you…” he sighed, no translation being needed for that, for he truly did long for her presence, all those years of never seeing her becoming prominent in his words, “I wish I could see you again, but I know you must work hard over there. Not to mention all that pesky regulations going on right now. So i suppose such is life, yes?” he inhaled the rest of his cigarette in one go, flicking the end into the ashtray.

“Tell me, have you met anyone new there? Anyone to hold your interest? I don’t want my baby sister to be dating while she is supposed to be studying.” he teased lightly, a simpler playing upon his sharply lined lips.

** Who is the higher up you are trying to manipulate? Make sure it’s not the president, that would be most scandalous and might blow our cover if we don’t pull it off right. **

Anna’s boss glanced over his reading glasses at the pretty blonde perched upon her chair as she chatter with her brother; his brows pulled low over his gleaming forehead. Or was or truly her brother? Was she pretending it to be, so he won’t know who it is? Was it a secret boyfriend? He didn’t doubt it, with her looks and all. Although he didn’t really fickle with this, for he was married after all.

Although he did catch her flirting it up with that nation, Alfred. So he supposed she wasn’t so loyal herself. This, he could use to his advantage later if they ever end up alone together at the White House.

The faint sound of her sliding over a pile of papers was just barely heard through her side, and the Russian smiled. “I miss you too…” she said, glancing at the pictures on her desk once more. “I’ll see you soon, I hope. Perhaps I’ve grown taller since I’ve seen you last.” The woman did indeed miss her country, both in land and in person. She worked excruciatingly hard for his affection ever since she was young. Being successful in everything she did only wanted it more because of how well she did. She was the best agent in their nation, and aimed to keep it that way.

The very image of Ivan barely could come to mind in that second, and she had to very much think about what he looked like, what might have changed in the years she had been away, and wondered if he thought the same. “Oh don’t worry brother! I can work while dating, but I can’t tell you for sure if we are going to. I hope so. He’s very busy, and has a large ego, it would seem. I doubt we would be able to work out. He has the heart of a big lion.” she sighed, as if dreaming.

** It is not the President. He is the personification of the United States.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Ao3 won't let me post Co-Creator of someone outside of Ao3, credit also goes to Modest Goddess.  
-B
> 
> Also I am very sorry, but this probably won't be updated at anything consistent as I am in University currently working towards a few different degrees, and my roleplay partner and I haven't continued in quite awhile, so once it reaches a later point I am unsure as to whether or not it will be continued.  
-B

**Author's Note:**

> Since Ao3 won't let me post Co-Creator of someone outside of Ao3, credit also goes to Modest Goddess.  
-B


End file.
